


Satisfaction

by Ametistina



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-19
Updated: 2010-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ametistina/pseuds/Ametistina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dukat had almost forgotten how much he enjoys bedding Bajoran women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over a year ago, but it's been languishing on my hard drive for unknown reasons. Set during "Return to Grace" 4.14. This is definitely not my usual pairing.

_Dukat had almost forgotten how much he enjoys bedding Bajoran women._

 _Looking down at the woman writhing beneath him, he takes note of her skin, the way its strange warm tone contrasts with his. So much soft skin, lacking in ridges or scales, only thickening slightly at the palms and the soles of their feet. He’s heard other Cardassians complain about the texture of Bajoran skin, that it is too soft, all underbelly, painfully thin and fragile. Yet that vulnerability is_ exactly _what appeals to Dukat._

 _He smoothes a hand over one squared shoulder, forgetting momentarily that she has no sensitive ridges there to stimulate. No matter. She is responding quite well to the ministrations of his other hand, parting her legs further as he teases her opening. He marvels at the slick lubrication her body produces, judging from it—and the moans escaping her reddened lips—that she is ready for penetration._

 _And of course, he will not give her the satisfaction—not just yet. Dukat has never forced a woman, Bajoran or otherwise. He finds it much more satisfying to make them beg … and if they hate themselves for it later, all the better._

 _And this woman will definitely hate herself—and him—after tonight’s encounter. “Nerys!” he whispers urgently. When she doesn’t respond, he deliberately invokes her title, symbol of the responsibility she’s pledged to her homeworld. “Major!”_

 _Kira’s eyelids flutter open. Her pupils are dilated, her skin flushed, nipples hardened—all the signs of a highly aroused Bajoran woman. It takes her a second to focus on his face, and her expression as she does so is a turbulent mixture of loathing, desire, and confusion. Yet she continues to moan incoherently, rubbing her lower body against his, her hands grasping at his abdominal ridges._

 _He leans close to her ear. “I just wanted,” he says clearly and deliberately, “for you to remember who’s fucking you.”_

 _With that, he thrusts into her, watching her face cloud with rage while her body clenches around him. She can’t stop, she’s too far gone, her movements nearly frantic with need._

 _Dukat almost laughs out loud with satisfaction. He’s always thought the sexual conquest of Bajorans was a perfect analogy to Cardassia’s military conquest of Bajor. Though the Major would never admit it, she wants him, craves his superior power and control. Sparring with him might make her stronger … but he, like Cardassia, will always win._

 _Yet even his vaunted discipline starts to crack as he feels the Major’s orgasm begin to ripple around him. The speed of his thrusts increases, and finally—_

Kira awakes with a gasp, reflexively sitting up in the unfamiliar bed and almost hitting her head against a low-hanging ledge. It takes her a moment to realize that she is still on the stolen Klingon ship, thankfully en route to Deep Space Nine.

She lies back down, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. She notices, with more than a little shame, how wet she is in the aftermath of the dream. For one wild second, she imagines how Dukat would greet her if she walked the short distance down the hall to his quarters. Given his persistent advances during this trip, she has a pretty good idea of how he would respond. And it’s almost tempting, for the physical release alone.

Kira brushes the thought away almost as a soon as it arises. “Prophets guide me,” she murmurs apologetically.

She would never, _ever_ give him the satisfaction.


End file.
